


skip a hit, don't make a sound

by b_o_i



Series: shiro gets a present [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Power Play, no choking this time but they do talk about it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_o_i/pseuds/b_o_i
Summary: Lotor's hand slides higher and Keith has to dig his nails into his palms to keep from slapping the prince’s hand away. He doesn’t want to do this here, in front of everyone. He doesn’t have much dignity left, but Lotor’s never done this before.“My lord,” he whispers, voice already shaky with embarrassment, “Please.”





	skip a hit, don't make a sound

**Author's Note:**

> this is the epitome of porn w/o plot bc there's no reason for it and there's no set up either

 

The Champion’s name is spreading across the empire; the little human taking down creatures two and three times his size, and winning. Bloodthirsty and violent. People want to see something like that in action.

Lotor loves watching. Keith, quietly, loves watching, too. There’s something different about watching him fight, now that he knows him. Now that he’s had his hands on him and in him and heard his stories about earth and his family and his friends. It’s harder to keep his distance.

Still, he does his best to show only minimal interest as he watches Shiro’s third match of the night, lying his legs crossed across Lotor’s lap. There’s a nervous energy running through the air today; he can feel it in the body underneath him, the prince’s hands hot against his skin. 

“He’s quite agile, isn’t he?” Lotor asks. 

Keith hums in vague agreement, watching the figure of the human below him. The crowd is muttering around him, all their focus on the fight below them. 

Suddenly, Keith gasps. He feels Lotor’s hand sliding up his thigh, and jerks against him. Up and up and up and they’re in the middle of everything and he isn’t even being subtle—he rubs his thumb in little circles against the skin of his inner thigh, and Keith bites his tongue to keep quiet. His hand slides higher and Keith has to dig his nails into his palms to keep from slapping the prince’s hand away. He doesn’t want to do this here, in front of everyone. He doesn’t have much dignity left, but Lotor’s never done this before. He’s sucked him off under the table once or twice, but never anything outright.    
  
The hand around his waist tightens and pulls him closer; the hand on his thighs slides up and gropes him through his silks. Keith squeaks. Lotor laughs low against his throat.     
  
“My lord,” he whispers, voice already shaky with embarrassment, “Please.”   
  
“Please what?”   
  
“Please, I—my lord, this isn’t—“   
  
“What, are you embarrassed?” Lotor’s voice is low and mocking, “It’s a little late to be embarrassed, don’t you think?”   
  
Keith doesn’t have an answer to that. Lotor gropes him more deliberately this time, big hand tight around his clothed dick. Keith bites his lip. The crowd yells around him, and he glances up to distract himself and see what they’re yelling about. His heart speeds up—it’s Shiro. He’d forgotten Shiro was fighting tonight.    
  
He tries to curl away, make himself smaller; they’re right up front, in a seat reserved for royalty. Keith doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want Shiro to see him like this. God knows he’s seen him degrading himself more than once already, but the arena feels like something separate. He doesn’t want to do this in front of Shiro and he doesn’t want to do this in front of all these people.    
  
Lotor has other ideas, though. A big thumb teasing the skin of his thigh, going up and up and slipping under the silk. A mouth hot against his neck, kissing at the soft, sensitive place behind his ear. His other arm, curled around his waist to keep him in place, slides up to rub at a nipple through the fabric. It pebbles under his finger; Keith, flushing in shame and years of conditioning, feels himself getting wet.    
  
“My lord,” he says again, voice hushed. “Please, someone will see.”   
  
Lotor, unsurprisingly, doesn’t listen. “Sit up,” he commands.   
  
“My lord?”   
  
“Sit up,” he says again, hand on his lower back, urging. “Watch your little friend.”   
  
Keith flushes again, but does as he’s asked. Pushes himself up onto his knees and spreads his legs to straddle his prince, back flush against the prince’s chest.    
  
He flushes deeper as Lotor flips his silks up, gets a hand under them to grip at his hips, skin on skin. Keith takes two of his fingers into his mouth easily, grips at Lotor’s knees to keep himself upright as Lotor slides a finger slow slow steady into him. Lotor moves slowly, eyes focused on the fight just below, enough that he barely draws any attention from the few people around them. By the time he’s gotten Keith soaking, mouth hot against the shell of his ear, he can unzip his pants and pull Keith down and onto his cock as easy as that.    
  
Shiro finds him in the crowd again—their right up front—and smiles at him. Keith tries his best to smiles back, and hopes to god that it just looks like he’s sitting in Lotor’s lap instead of on his cock. With the way Lotor thrusts up into him and pulls him back against his chest, he doubts that it does.    
  
Shiro blushes bright red, and looks away. God, he thinks, embarrassed and ashamed. Lotor laughs behind him.   
  
“He saw you,” he says, he whispers, “You think he likes it? Knowing you’re riding my dick while you’re watching him fight?”    
  
Despite the teasing way he’s talking, Keith knows he expects an answer. “I don’t—ah, I don’t know, my lord.”    
  
“I think he does. Or maybe,” Lotor slides up his thigh again, big hand curling possessively around him, pulls him down onto his cock as he thrusts up. “He just thinks you’re a whore. Fucking yourself on my cock right in the middle of everything and loving it. You do love it, right?”   
  
Despite himself, Keith shakes his head.    
  
“You’re lying,” Lotor hisses, “You’re soaking. Look at you, you’re dying for it. I’ve been neglecting you lately; need to remind everyone—remind the Champion—who you belong to.”   
  
“Y-Your majesty,” he gasps as Lotor tweaks a budding nipple.    
  
“Watch him fight,” he whispers, “Watch him move. Move with him.”   
  
Despite himself, Keith lets his eyes trace over Shiro’s form as he fights. He’s quick when he moves, graceful and deceptively violent. Dodging a sword, blocking fist, jumping forward and  _ stabbing _ —Keith chokes out a surprise moan as Lotor thrusts up into him at the same moment Shiro thrusts into his opponent, pulling him down into it.    
  
“Just like that,” Lotor says; his chest is hot against Keith’s back, moving along with him, “He’s so violent, isn’t he? He acted like he wanted to make love to you, all soft and sweet and gentle, but he really wants to destroy you. Wants to wreck you, hold you down and fuck the fight out of you, the way he beats his opponents into submission.”    
  
Shiro’s hand lights up, sparking with quintessence, and he slices through his opponents arm. Lotor digs his nails into Keith’s ribs, rolls his hips, grinds his cock against Keith’s prostate.    
  
“Remember those bruises he left on your neck the first time he fucked you? You liked that, didn’t you.” It isn’t a question, but Lotor, as always, demands an answer.    
  
“I don’t—“   
  
“You do. You’ve always been such a slut to be choked,” his arms snakes up as he speaks, big hand curling lightly around Keith’s throat, resting. Threatening. “Tense up all tight and hot and beautiful. I bet he likes it when you squirm on his cock.”    
  
In the arena below, Shiro is winning. His nose is bleeding, dripping down his chin and staining his shirt. He licks his lips; Lotor drags his teeth along the curve of Keith’s neck.    
  
“You want him to fuck you, after this?” Lotor asks, voice taunting.    
  
“Your majesty—“   
  
“It’s okay, I won’t be mad. I know you like it when he fucks you.”   
  
God, but Keith does. He’s so used to Lotor’s claws and cock and dirty talk, but Shiro—he’s gentle, and rough, and tender in a way he doesn’t think Lotor can be.    
  
“I—I do,” he admits, rocking down onto his cock.    
  
“Do you like him more than me?” Lotor’s voice is suddenly biting, his thrusts are suddenly vicious, dangerous, and oh god, Keith thinks, he shouldn’t have said that.   
  
“N-No, your majesty,” he says quickly, “Nobody— _ oh _ , nobody can fuck me better than you.”    
  
“Please,” he scoffs, something childish, “I know about your little crush. Do you think about him when I fuck you? Do you dream about him?”

“No,” Keith lies, and Lotor has always always been able to tell when he lies, “No, no, your majesty—“   
  
“Liar,” he hisses, nails digging into the curve of his jaw, the jut of his hip, “You’re such a whore. My cock isn’t enough for you anymore?” He laughs, “I’ve loosened you up so much I’m surprised he gets anything out of it.”   
  
Keith flushes hot in shame, watching Shiro fight and fight and the crowd cheer and cheer.    
  
“If you wanted more cock, you should’ve just told me. I’m sure my guards would love another go.” Keith lets a noise slip out, something pathetically afraid, “Is that not enough for you, either? I see the way my father’s generals look at you; they’d love a chance to get their hands on you. They’d ruin you, pass you around like the used up slut you are. Do you want that?” He thrusts, in hard, growls against his throat, “I  _ said, _ do you want that, whore?”   
  
“No,” Keith sobs, “No, please, no, I’m sorry my lord, please.”    
  
“You’re sorry,” Lotor mocks, “Do you want me to fuck you?”   
  
“Yes,” he says, nodding frantically.   
  
“ _ Do you want me to fuck you?”  _ He repeats.   
  
“ _ Yes!” _ Keith cries, too scared to care about the glances they’re getting.    
  
“Of course you do. Because who do you belong to?”   
  
“You,” Keith breathes, clenching down around Lotor’s cock as Lotor comes, “You, your majesty.”   
  
“Me,” he croons, “Me, and nobody else.”    
  
“Nobody else.”   
  
Shiro gets a good hit in, the final hit; his opponent falls to the ground, dead. The crowds goes wild. Lotor gets a hand around his cock, stokes once, twice, and Keith moans long and loud as he comes, muffled by the cheering.    
  
Shiro, panting with victory in his eyes, searches the crowd and meets his eye. He looks so hungry, so  _ wanting _ , and it makes Keith want to cry.    
  
“Go,” Lotor says, patting his wet thigh fondly and easing him off his cock, “Give him another reward.”   
  
“My lord?” Keith asks, breathless and confused.    
  
Lotor just smiles, like he wasn’t fucking him with a vicious jealousy a few minutes ago, and says, “He won, didn’t he? He deserves it.”    
  
Lotor sends him to Shiro still wet and open. Shiro’s so out of his mind with adrenaline that he barely seems to care. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> shrug emoji here we are again


End file.
